


Pink in the Face

by Alphawulf



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon), Steven Universe: Future (Cartoon)
Genre: Corrupted Steven Universe, Gen, Steven Turning Pink, Steven Universe Future Spoilers, or rather hes in the process of being corrupted but doesn't know it yet, up to the episode volleyball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:26:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21754468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphawulf/pseuds/Alphawulf
Summary: He doesn’t want to think about this. He doesn’t want to deal with this.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 109





	Pink in the Face

**Author's Note:**

> Had a thought on the drive home from campus, and suddenly this document existed a few hours later.
> 
> Title based off of "red in the face" but, well. Pink.

He storms into his room, fists clenched, Pearl not far behind him. She had tried to console him, but to no avail - this isn’t something that can be solved with soft words and reassurances.

It’s unfair.

It is _completely_ unfair!

He deserves this! He’s just as important as the others! Who are they to deny him of this?

Behind him, Pearl closes the door. 

He has come to a stop in the middle of his room, and he glances left, out the window, and wishes his glare could - could do _something,_ make them change their minds, make them see how _he_ sees. 

With a sharp exhale, he huffs, chin falling to his chest, and it relieves only a fraction of the frustration bubbling deep in his core. 

“This isn’t _fair!”_ He shouts, and the walls around him rattle; Pearl approaches him.

“My Diamond- Pink, I’m sure White-”

“It’s not fair! It’s _not fair!”_ He continues, as if she isn’t even there. He stamps his foot, and the floor beneath him cracks. Faintly, he can hear the pebbles working away to fix it as best as they can, without disturbing him, and he absently notes how their grey projections are bathed in pink - he must be glowing again.

“I deserve a colony! The others have _so many,_ and all I’m asking for is one! _One!_ They think I can’t handle it but I can! _I can!”_ His chamber quakes more, and at his last exclamation he can hear something _shatter._

The wall before him crumbles, opening his view to the rest of Homeworld; distantly, a ship flies, but it’s the only movement for miles.

“Pink,” Pearl begins again, softly; he feels a hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps you only need to try again; If you can sway Blue or Yellow, then White will have to-”

He lets out a primal scream, no words behind the action; it won’t work. It won’t work and he _knows_ it, they won’t _listen-_

The noise turns to a growl, deep in his throat, and he stomps towards the partially damaged window, glaring at White’s ship, teeth clenched. Pearl’s hand slips from him, and he doesn’t hear her move.

“It will be okay-” she tries, tentatively following him as he continues to stare down the expressionless ship.

“NO!” He yells, turning, and the floor splinters in a spiderweb pattern. 

Pearl _screams._

Immediately, his eyes snap to her. She’s against the opposite wall, seemingly having been knocked back with the force of his shout. Doubled over, he can’t see her face or her gem.

Her form glitches; he gasps.

Rushing over, he falls to his knees and reaches out a pink, gloved hand to place on Pearl’s arm.

“Pearl? Pearl, are you okay?”

She looks up at him.

Her left eye mirrors her gem: large, ugly, sickening cracks running through both.

He bolts upright, his breath coming in gasps as his vision swims.

It’s dark, but with the moonlight filtering in, he sees his room. _His_ room, not Pink’s.

He feels sick, stomach churning uncomfortably as bits of his dream linger in his mind’s eye. That rage, so overwhelming, Pearl - Volleyball, that is - prone in front of him.

Why do the diamond dreams have to come back _now,_ of all times! He thought he was _done_ with this!

A wave of queasiness washes over him, and he throws off his blanket as he rushes to get to the bathroom.

By the time he’s on the floor, in front of the toilet, the feeling has passed, but he doesn’t get up, trying to reign in his irregular breathing before he starts to feel faint.

Volleyball’s expression from the dream is burned into his eyelids.

His mom was a _monster._ There’s no other way to put it. She did so many horrible things to so many people, and she didn’t seem to _care._

Even with his eyes closed, he can tell the room has brightened slightly, a pink tint he knows must be coming from himself.

He doesn’t want to think about this. He doesn’t want to deal with this.

Another of Volleyball’s expressions - cowered on The Reef’s floor, hands over her head as Pearl stands before her. 

He-

He’s a monster too. Just like Pink. Just… just like his mom. He caused Volleyball pain - there’s no way to undo that, he acted just like his mom and nearly hurt her _again_.

Fighting back tears, he forces himself to stand. His heart is racing in his chest, every beat wracking his body. He makes his way to the sink, clutches the edge as he simply breathes, trying to just _calm down._ It’s the least he can do. 

Hesitantly, he lifts his gaze to the mirror. Pink eyes stare back at him, from a luminescent face, and he has to bite his tongue so he doesn’t scream. 

He’s not her, it’s fine, his pupils aren’t diamonds, he’s _fine, it’s fine-_

Jerkily, he turns on the faucet and messily splashes water on his face. 

It’s _fine._

After a few moments, he looks back at himself, more prepared this time for the sight that greets him. The boy in the mirror is scowling at him, and it looks so _wrong,_ so out of place. Focusing on breathing in for three counts, holding for seven, and then letting it out for eight, he schools his expression back into something more neutral.

With his forehead no longer scrunched up, his eyes land on a bump, a little ways above his right eyebrow.

“What is - is that a _zit?”_ he mutters, reaching up to poke the offending bit of skin, but the moment his finger so much as brushes against it, pain throbs through his head.

“Ow ow, jeeze. This is just great,” he complains, grabbing a hand towel to dry off his face and, hopefully, keep himself from getting any _more_ zits, “first the dreams, now this? Can’t the universe leave me alone for five minutes?”

After the towel is put back in place, he glares for a few moments more at the bump, before leaving the bathroom in a bit of a rush. 

He wonders how he’s going to get back to sleep _now._ He’s still pink and, with these stupid dreams and these stupid powers and this _stupid_ legacy, a part of him wonders if he is still _Pink_ as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Since it's less clear, the 'zit' is a horn, very slightly starting to grow. It'll be the first of four he'll find in the coming days.
> 
> (I just had this thought a while back about him dismissing a budding horn as a zit and it worked its way into this fic I guess)
> 
> ALSO the thought while I was driving (though I can't articulate it as well as I could hours ago):
> 
> Volleyball's injury is like... a reflection of how she feels. Yes, it's the trauma, but it's also that she's been hurt, broken, by someone she loved, and it wasn't ever fully repaired - the relationship, firstly, and thus the injury remains. 
> 
> Steven, on the other hand, within the corrupted theory, doesn't appear broken - he appears monstrous. So, to me, as he's bottling up all these emotions about his mom, he may make the connect from her to himself, connecting all these things he can't fix, or fails to improve - Jasper, the gems working in Beach City, all the gems out there still hurting from his mom -to himself, and think that since his mom was so cruel, perhaps he is turning out to be like her.
> 
> He sees himself as a monster.
> 
> (Also I don't hate PD's character. She's complex and I'd like to express my thoughts but I'm less good with all that analysis stuff. The story mentions all her bad things because that's what Steven's thinking about. PD was bad, but she did what she could to make up for things, even if those doings ended up going south)
> 
> ((Also also I'm @Whentvsfly over on tumblr if yall wanna scream about su:f with me))


End file.
